Knockin' Boots
by Mrs.Robward
Summary: There's this dancer and she walks into a bar... AH **Complete**
1. Chapter 1

**Ficawesome Gift Exchange - 3some**

**Title:** Knockin' Boots

**Written for:** Sunsetwing

**Written By:** Mrs. Robward

**Rating: **M

**Summary/Prompt used:** I am giving full carte blanche as long as there's some romance involved. I read a ton of fic and am really happy with anything.

_**If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange, visit the Facebook group: Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps **_

_or add the **C2** to get all the stories direct to your inbox._

http:/ www. fanfiction. net/ community/ FAGE_3some/ 93625/

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><p><em>**So for this story think Coyote Ugly with dancing instead of singing. <em>

_This fic was inspired by **Gloriana's Wanna Take You Home** Song and Video. There is an actual line dance to that song. Any links that correspond with each chapter will be posted on my FB GROUP FANFIC page. There's a link on this profile to join my FB group, come join us! **_

_**Beegurl13 & kjaxn** made me a banner._

_**Ttharman, beegurl13, & ellewarden** pre-read some or all of this for me._

_**imheretoreview** provided me with Nashville deets._

_**zaza724** beta'd and did the best job EVER!_

_I still own ALL mistakes!_

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><p><strong>Knockin' Boots<strong>

**Chapter 1**

She stands—small and intimidated—on the outside of the locked, wooden, double doors. The crowd on the streets is minimal. A new city, the possibility of a new job, a need for new friends—a new life.

A neon sign hangs high over her head, it reads 'Breaking Dawn Saloon' but the light is off and dull in the early afternoon light. She repeats the name a few times in her head.

She knocks and waits, rocking on her heels. She adjusts the strap of her duffel bag on her shoulder and takes a deep breath of the crisp air.

A shiver races down her spine. Maybe it's dread, or nerves, or hope, or maybe it's all three. She needs it to be hope. Her options have run out. This is it. Before she even auditions, tries it, sees it... she wants it.

No matter what.

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><p>"Hello, I'm Bella, Bella Swan. I'm here for the audition."<p>

Petite and cute swings the door open wider. "Yes, Bella, I remember! I'm Alice Whitlock, the choreographer. We spoke on the phone. Nice to meet you. Come on in."

She follows Alice through the empty club and around the bare bar. Chairs turned and stacked on tables, clean mugs line the counter tops, and an empty dance floor just waits to be filled and crowded.

Her nerves succumb to excitement. It's almost time to prove and show, and try with all she has.

A spiral staircase leads to a loft with another large dance space, high mirrors, and closed doors.

Alice shows her the bathroom, tells her to get ready, and asks for her music.

She changes her clothes, dressing in only a cropped tank top and her boy shorts. Her feet stay shoeless, sockless. Her toes numb against the cold hardwood floor.

She waits alone in the open space. She stretches and bends preparing herself. Her dance moves play in her mind like a movie. She's done this before, practiced for hours, dreamed about it again and again. Her muscles are programmed and ready.

Alice steps out of one of the closed doors with a man at her side. He's tall, so much more than Alice.

She can't see him very well. He's standing in the shadow at the edge of the room. She can feel his eyes, his stare. It warms her body in a way because she knows he's already fixated on her, watching her, and she hasn't even started dancing yet. She's sure he's going to like this.

This is what she was born to do, despite everything else.

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><p>He's already impressed. He hasn't been able to take his eyes off her since she rounded the top of the steps. The two way glass of his office hiding him yet indulging him at the same time.<p>

Alice tells him to come on, that it's time to see what she's got.

He can hardly wait.

This is isn't like him, he's usually immune to the likes of her. The way her long hair flows down her back, the curves of her body, the way her confidence oozes from her pores. He knows that if he ever had half the chance he'd touch her, map her. He'd touch her everywhere and he's sure she'd feel just as perfect as she looks.

He chooses to stay hidden in the camouflage of the shadows, to keep his expressions concealed and secret. He feels like his control is slowly slipping again. It's a feeling he doesn't like.

"All right, Bella, we're ready when you are. Just nod your head to give the cue for your music to start," Alice commands and then joins him to watch her from the corner of the room.

Alice gets this feeling that this girl is different; maybe she's the one they've been looking for. The one to help them finally win nationals and promote the club even more.

Alice looks over at him, sly and eager, and refrains from clapping her hands in excitement. Alice can tell, this is going to be good. He doesn't even have to say a word. Alice can tell his interest is piqued and that just makes this all even better.

Under the spotlight, she nods with a smile of confidence and a side of let's-do-this. She begins to move, slow at first, then with each beat, each chord, her body slides, glides, and twirls. His breathing begins to speed. Her dancing matches his pulse, racy and quick—a building of spirit and life, a peak of flesh and lust, a crash of intensity and want.

She's a vision and a master. Her dancing is flawless. It arouses him like none he's ever seen. The things her moves evoke in him. He can't believe that she's not already a professional, being paid to be so perfect. She never stutters, never trips, never off beat, her balance impeccable. Her lines are beautiful. Her silhouette and shape as she slinks across the floor is hypnotizing.

Simply, the best.

He can't look away. Shit, he's even afraid to blink, worried he'll miss something.

His mouth is dry and the room is hot, hotter, hottest. His body longs for her and he doesn't even know her. In all his thirty-four years, he's never known a girl that can dance like this and shake his world to the very core in mere minutes.

Hiring her will be the best of both worlds. Heaven and hell. Paradise and torture. A blessing and a sin.

He knows his own strength and he knows he's not that strong.

To keep away, to stay away from her, that would take all the will he's not even sure he has. It's a chance he's willing to take.

For the business of course.

She finishes strong and tight. Her face flushed and her body covered in a sheen of both energy and heat. She throws her hair back and tries to get her breathing back under control. Her chest is heaving to match her endurance and her feet cross the other. She's panting, smiling, and suddenly, seems shy and coy.

As if she doesn't know how breathtaking she is.

He can barely catch his own breath just from watching her. He never wants her to stop dancing. He knows her abilities are so above this club and what they need; but, she did come to try out so she must want this job.

He's a greedy, lonely, simple man and he wants her here. He wants to watch, he needs to watch her.

"Do we even need to interview her?" Alice asks under her breath about the dancer after she disappears in the bathroom to clean up and they're left alone.

He hasn't moved, afraid this is too good to be true. "Edward?" Alice jabs him with her elbow. He knows he needs to speak, but his head is cloudy with lust and want and desire and need. All dormant emotions he wasn't even sure still existed within him, until seconds ago, until her.

All it took was a brown-eyed beauty to awaken his soul and remind him that his life is lacking—that he doesn't have it all.

Not yet, anyway.

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><p><em>"<strong>Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion." <strong>_

_**- Martha Graham**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Knockin' Boots **

**Chapter 2**

During the interview, he lets Alice do all the talking. For the first time ever, he feels claustrophobic in his own office. She's sitting there across from his desk—smiling, beaming, making his personal space gorgeous and complete. His mind drifts to thinking of her on his couch, in his kitchen, in his bed. He hangs on her every word, her every shuffle, her every blink.

He still wonders if this is a dream.

"You do understand what the job entails right, Bella? Our club is known for our dancers. You'll have some choreographed routines to certain songs and other songs you'll be required to freestyle on the stage. But your job will be first to dance, and second to engage the crowd, make them want to dance also. You're to always represent Breaking Dawn to the best of your ability," Alice speaks matter-of-factly.

"I understand." She looks down at her hands, "I just want the opportunity to dance," and then so quiet no one is supposed to hear, she adds one single word... "again."

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><p>She stands in awe at the bar. The whole place is quickly filling with patrons. Today has been a day she'll never forget. She got the job. She's going to be a Breaking Dawn Dancer, a <em>world renowned <em>Breaking Dawn Dancer.

Alice even asked her if she was interested in the possibility of being a member of their competition line dancing team as well as being a stage dancer at the club. She couldn't say yes fast enough.

But tonight she gets to watch, observe. Get a feel for an average night in the country club smack dab in the middle of the heart of downtown Nashville on 2nd Avenue.

Breaking Dawn is one of the most well known clubs in the South. It's popularity is gaining speed after a big time movie just finished filming in it's building. Many nights the doors are shut as the club fills to capacity long before it's even close to closing time.

She sits at the bar alone, her cheeks aching from smiling all day. She looks around for Alice—or for him, for Edward. He'd been so quiet around her today. She thought he was either an asshole or really shy. She crosses her fingers hoping for the latter. There's just something about him...

As she sits there, she's approached time and again. Most of other dancers, at some point or another, stop by her for a second and introduce themselves. She notices how pretty they all are. How fit and tone their bodies look, especially in the short cut-off shorts and the tight shirts that display their midriffs. She wonders if she'll look even half as good as them. Most of all she likes their boots, how they hit mid-calf, how they compliment their legs, and complete the outfit.

She's never worn, or much less owned, a pair of cowgirl boots.

This job just gets sweeter and sweeter.

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><p>He tries to busy himself, distance himself. Not watch her. Not move toward her at the bar. Not gravitate. He tries to ignore the pull but she's like a magnet and he's the thickest of steel. There's no fighting that. The force is too great. The need is too much, not even factoring in his desire, his attraction.<p>

So before he knows it, there he is. Right next to her. Sharing her space. "So, what do you think?" he asks her, talking close to her ear over the loud music. His hand finds her hip and touches, just barely. His fingers ache to curl and clutch. He bites his lip, trying to divert his attention from the warmth of her under his palm.

He's unsuccessful.

She jumps a little, not expecting him to suddenly be so close, but sucking in a breath of relief that he is. That it's him.

She looks over to him, nestled to her side, standing in between the bar stools, the closeness of him warming her. His palm lightly touching her hip, she resists the urge to lean into him. His beer bottle tipped to his lips, his eyes on her and her alone.

"I love it." She answers as her eyes drink in his features. He's so nice to look at, especially up close.

The scruff on his sharp jaws.

The hollow and highness of his cheekbones.

The faint wrinkles around his eyes as he smiles.

The pink of his lips that pout to caress the glass bottle.

The mole that peeks out from the spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

The perfectness of his ears.

The curl of his almost-too-long hair teasing his neck.

His long fingers that loop around the bottle.

His eyes, his eyebrows, his nose, his chin... his everything.

She's mesmerized by him again. Dazzled. Stunned silly by his presence. This happened before in his office. She had to keep from looking directly at him, it was too much. He made her swoon, just by being, so she focused on Alice and her questions instead, evading the charge in the office air that had her body on high alert.

He leans in even closer to her, she closes her eyes. She knows she needs to stay professional, keep a level head, but he un-levels her so swiftly, always feeling off-balance around him, and she barely even knows his name, only Edward.

"You love it?" His breath circles her neck as he speaks. The tenor in his voice tickles her ear. His scent blankets her like a mist of lust and man. "I'm happy to hear that. You'll do great here."

She likes hearing him say that, she prays she'll do the club justice. She turns her head to speak into his ear, but her lips fall short. Hitting closer to the skin below, on his neck, near the junction of his jaw bone, to that place that seems to call her lips to taste and rest, "I can't wait to get up there and dance." Her lips tingle from brushing against his sandpaper skin.

His neck prickles from the dampness of her breath, her sweetness gnawing at him, burning him from the inside out. She slightly leans into him. He feels her shoulder at his chest, her knee as his groin, her mouth so close. The bar stool hoisting her just tall enough to be at his height. His hand still stamped to her hip, his grasp firm but innocent... for now.

She likes the feel of his hand on her—the sense of possession and want. She thinks it may be crazy to presume it means anything more to him, but this blimp in time, she'll revel in it anyway.

She continues to talk. He concentrates on the feel of her mouth as it sometimes brushes his bare skin, internally humming at the passion that her touch stirs. "I love the atmosphere here, so casual. Freeing and fun," she sighs.

He nods and agrees. Someone behind him bumps him and then apologizes, but not before he's pushed into her. His body flush to her body. Crammed and taut. His hands reach out to hold and steady. Palms grip and fingers control. Her hair tickles his face. He inhales and memorizes.

Her hand reaches out to his bare arm to catch herself so she doesn't slide off the stool. She squeezes his forearm harder than she should. His muscle, bone, and skin covered with a soft, downy hair tenses and flexes under her hand. She uses him as an anchor and a pulley, holding herself to him, and gathering his body even closer to hers.

"Are you all right?" he asks. His mouth, his nose, his lips still pressed against her hair. His hands keeping her flush to him when he could have, should have, backed away seconds ago.

She nods, slow and sure. She's hesitant to move too much, in fear that she will lose her safety—the security—she already feels in his hold.

"There you are Bella," the familiar voice of Alice interrupts them.

His hands squeeze her flesh gently one last time before she feels him release her and step away. She's a little taken aback from the intensity that thrummed between them, wavering whether she should even look at him or not, too scared of what she might see.

The appearance of Alice jars him, waking him like a bucket of ice cold water would. He backs away from her, regretfully and reluctantly. Alice looks at him, and his hands, and the hips they just fell away from. She wants to encourage him but Alice knows better—he's too private and she already knows that what he wants, he gets.

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><p><em>"<strong>The body says what words cannot."<strong>_

_**- Martha Graham **_


	3. Chapter 3

_All line dances are in **BOLD** and are actual dances._

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><p><strong>Knockin' Boots<strong>

**Chapter 3**

Alice takes her back to the privacy of the upstairs, measures her for her uniform, and calls in an order for her boots. "So, what do you think of the place so far?"

She doesn't know where to start, "I'm so excited! I can't wait. I think I'm going to love it here!" She can't contain her excitement.

"Where are you staying?" Alice hands her a bottle of water as they sit down at one of the empty tables.

"With my mother and step-father, just outside of town in Pleasant View. They're the ones who encouraged me to come to Nashville and try out. My mom's a teacher and her husband, Phil, just relocated here. He's a sports agent and most of his clients are now playing on the east coast, so..."

"Oh really? Pleasant View? Isn't that like a thirty minute drive down the interstate from here? Do you plan on moving closer to downtown?" Alice asks with intentions larger, deeper than she's letting on.

"It is and I'd love to move closer, I just have to take it one day at a time. I only flew in from Washington yesterday afternoon. Right now, my options are…limited," she answers honestly.

"Well, I want you to know, my husband, Jasper, and I have this huge place. I even have a small dance studio and a spare bedroom, so if you ever want to stay close..." Alice leaves her invitation open and lingering. "I could even show you some of our dances after hours and in our spare time."

"Really?" she asks, thinking it sounds too good to be true.

"Yeah, you seem like a good person and, to be honest, Bella, I could always use a friend." Alice reaches out and clutches her hand, giving it a squeeze.

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><p>She trains hard. Alice makes sure she knows all the popular line dances, starting with the ones to engage the crowds. She doesn't need any instruction for freestyling, and for that Alice is thankful. Alice tells her about the limits, that this club compares to a PG-17 rating, explaining more or less that Breaking Dawn is not a strip club. Alice tells her of the girls that lost their jobs when they danced as though it was. "Being sexy and sensual as you dance is a plus. It makes for bigger tips and the patrons'll spend more money so we all profit. We know what the average tip amounts are for the bartenders so on any given night, if that amount exceeds the average, we split it among everyone, including the dancers."<p>

Alice shows her the steps to the **Sleazy Slide**, the Good Time, and the **Slappin' Leather.** Alice also shows her the extra rolls, dips, and spins that are exclusive to Breaking Dawn dancers. Bella especially likes the **Country Girl Shake It for Me**, the **She's Country**, and the **Honkytonk Badonkadonk**. She loves the way she feels dancing in sync with the other girls. She likes to close her eyes and listen to the clickety-clack of boots across the wooden floor as they keep in step with one another.

She knows the usual ones like the **Cupid Shuffle**, **Electric Slide**, and the **Cha Cha Slide.** She even knows how to **Dougie**. She chuckles gratefully thinking that those college parties came in handy for something.

As Alice names off dance after dance sometimes Bella gets confused and anxiety twists through her features. Alice can't help but laugh at her and tell her not to fret and that before long she'll know them all like the back of her hand.

She watches her reflection in the mirror, the count on repeat in her mind, but she can't stop wondering where he is. As the day rolls on and everyone's practicing upstairs at the club, she never sees him. Granted, it's only been two days, but still, she misses him some. Why isn't he ever in his office?

In the early morning hours, he lies awake in his bed listening to the sounds of the dancers downstairs already practicing. His small apartment over the club is just that, simple and small. Just one open room is all he needs to live and a bathroom with the bare necessities.

His mind hones in on one dancer in particular. He's only watched her dance once, a measly ten minute audition. Yet, to him, it feels like she's the only one he's ever seen dance—and he's seen a lot of dancing.

He avoids his office during practice hours as is his habit. He can do the same work from the confines of his flat and not be bothered with loud music, and Alice's louder mouth. Though, he can't deny that he almost wishes he had a reason to go to office for something, for anything—if only just for a minute.

The next time Alice bumps into him near the bar, she informs him of the plan for Bella to stay with her and Jasper so Alice can train her more conveniently. Just a few nights a week, or… as needed.

In all the ways it should, that sounds reasonable and logical to him, in all the ways but one—he wants her here, in his home, with him. That thought rattles him. He's been alone for so long. He prefers it this way, right?

She hasn't been at the club for the past two nights, he's getting antsy. Shouldn't she at least come in for an hour or so during their busy hours? Doesn't she want to?

He can't help but ask Alice what's up, in the most casual, pretending-to-not-care-tone he can muster. Alice explains that she stayed behind to practice back at her studio. Alice smiles at him with her all knowing smile. She knows why he's asking. It's all she can do not to tease him about his crush.

"You should come by practice tomorrow morning. I think she'll be ready to take the floor tomorrow night and I'd like your opinion." He nods but already thinking up reasons to convince himself not to go too early, to find excuses to put it off. He doesn't want to seem too zealous. He's thinking moderation of her presence, not indulgence. Gradual contact, not full throttle rendezvous. If he can control anything, it's how much he lets himself enjoy her, so he will do just that.

Not even sure what he's avoiding or what he's trying to fight, he just knows that he's overwhelmed and shaken. Overpowered with so much of something, feeling blinded and suffocated. If only he could contain it, master it, he wouldn't feel so uptight and lost.

"Edward, don't do this." Alice puts her hand on his arm. "There's nothing wrong with you being attracted to her..."

"Alice," he hisses, "She's too young and…"

Alice swats at his chest, "No she's not. Twenty-three is not too young. You're acting like she's fourteen, Edward! Get real!"

He shakes his head, it's a little more complicated than that. "I can't explain it, the way she makes me feel. It's like I have hope again, and maybe that I'd like to try… you know. That scares me."

He's close to Alice, she might as well be his sister instead of his cousin. He knows he can tell her anything and she only wants what's best for him.

But he can't find the words to talk to Alice about Bella. He wants, but he's afraid. He's eager, but he's hesitant. He has this past, but he longs for a future.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe she's scared too? You hardly know her so take the time and fix that. You may have more in common than you think. "

He wants to ask Alice what she knows about her, but then again—he doesn't.

"I have this feeling, Edward, it's all going to work out. Just go with it. Don't over think things."

He runs his hand through his hair, he tugs on his ear, he checks his watch to see if its closing time yet.

For now, it seems, tomorrow morning can't come soon enough.

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><p><em><strong>"Dancing's not work. You can't call it work. A day I don't dance is a day I don't live."<strong>_

_**- from 'Serpent of the Nile'**_

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><p><em>Twitter: Mrs_Robward <em>

_P.S. I puffy heart reviews... _


	4. Chapter 4

**Knockin' Boots**

**Chapter 4**

"Bella? Are you still awake?" Alice peeks her head in through the door of her spare bedroom.

She shuts her laptop, "Yeah, come in. I just got out of the shower. How was the bar tonight?"

Alice comes in and sits down beside her on the bed. "Busy as usual. The girls have been spreading the word about the new dancer that starts tomorrow night so expect a crowd for your first night. Are you nervous?"

"Oh, really? My, uh, yes. No, um… maybe?" She giggles and falls back on the bed. "I'm ready and excited and anxious. I can't wait, actually." She props herself up on her elbows.

"You're going to do great, Bella. I think you already have a fair share of fans." Alice wiggles her eyebrows.

She rolls her eyes, thinking of Jake, one of the fellow dancers. He's a nice looking guy, dark skin, nice hair, hot body, but he follows her around like a lost puppy. She tries not to be too nice and lead him on but he's always there at practice, right on her heels,volunteering to help Bella with whatever—dance steps, opening doors, fetching water bottles... anything.

"Ugh! You're talking about Jake, right? I swear, Alice, he's a nice guy but there's nothing there. No spark between us…or not for me anyway." She laughs.

"Jake's only eighteen, but he's an awesome dancer. If he gets too fresh with you let me know, I'll tell him to back off. I think he's harmless though." Alice shrugs.

She sighs, "I will Alice, the last thing I need right now is any more guy troubles."

Alice doesn't press for more, not yet, but she doesn't dismiss the 'more' in Bella's partial, accidental confession.

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><p>The next morning, she stretches and groans in her bed. Her muscles ache. Her tendons protesting her movements. She hasn't worked her body this hard in a long time, in years actually.<p>

She looks down at her legs, her left knee is swollen. Tears immediately sting her eyes as she fingers over the long, silver scar on the inside of her knee.

She's avoided it as long as she can. Today, she'll have to wear her knee brace to reduce the swelling and maybe by tonight she'll be able to dance without it.

She tries not to think about the repercussions of not telling her new employers about her preexisting condition. She knew she'd have to tell them sooner or later. She just hoped the pain and swelling would hold off until the later.

Then again, she doesn't have such luck.

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><p>As soon as she tops the steps to the upstairs practice loft she notices his office door is cracked open. This morning, he's at the club, and like a switch, her ill mood lifts. She's ecstatic he's here. Maybe something good will come out of today.<p>

He watches her come in—walking slow and easy—looking her over head to toe. He hasn't seen her in three days and is aware that his memories didn't do her justice. She glows brightly and lights up the room. Her hair is pulled up loose and she doesn't mask her face behind any makeup. He's reminded why an all-natural look is his favorite look.

He remains sitting behind his desk, not making an appearance yet and enjoying the perfect view of her. He questions whether or not he could have had this every morning? He silently curses himself for doing without.

Alice begins making announcements about what dances they will be practicing today and that they will be learning a new dance in the coming days. A few of the dancers groan with frustration while others whoop and cheer.

He just watches her as she tediously bunches up her shirt in her hands and haphazardly tugs it gently over her head, revealing her racer back, blue bra. Her bare skin reveals itself like a sunrise over an ocean—painstakingly slowly, but breathtaking and stunning. She leans to one side and then the other to push off her shoes. She points her toes and stretches her foot and then her calf. She tucks her thumbs into her waistband, wiggling her hips, and slides her stretch pants down her curves. It's the most innocent strip he's ever witnessed and he already yearns to see it again.

His eyes are glued to her booty shorts that might as well be underwear. She bends down to pick up the rest of her clothes and her plump ass cheeks invite him to bite.

His eyes dart to the figure right behind her and, primitively, his skin crawls with anger. Jake's there, watching her, eyes drinking her in, much like Edward had just been doing. A small bulge becoming evident in Jake's shorts.

He's fixed in his office chair as he watches Jake approach her. Jake's fingers coming out to graze and linger on her arm. Edward watches as she coils away from him. It's slight but conspicuous enough, and all the confirmation Edward needs. Jake bends down, his face getting too close to her privates, his hand reaching out again. She's takes a small step backward and instantly. He's out of his chair—stalking with intent.

Not taking his eyes off the two, he notices Jake reaches out and touches the large, black brace on her left knee and his stomach plummets. His steps slow. Where did that come from? What happened to her?

She's shaking her head at Jake, tucking her hair behind her ear, her eyes lift and she sees Edward coming toward her. She's scared and thrilled at the same time but her eyes, her face, and her posture all flash relief.

Jake sees him too and quickly stands up. Jake doesn't move away from her—immaturely, wrongfully, staking his claim. Edward scoffs at him, paying him as much attention as one would to a gnat. With a wave of Edward's hand, Jake sorely retreats and backs away, the sting of defeat present and heavy.

She watches in reverence and stupor as Edward approaches her and Jake. She's still and wary. Jake seems to want to paste his feet to the floor beside her, but with a flick of Edward's wrist, he keenly moves away.

She wonders if she should thank Edward now or later.

Edward's hand comes out to touch her arm, but instead of the spark she expects to feel, she gets nothing. She looks down as his hand retracts in mid-air and disappears into his jean pockets.

"Can I see you in my office please?" He asks confidentially. A couple of dancers standing nearby make catcalls and whistles. His nose flares and he gives Alice a disapproving look. He wishes Alice could read his mind right now. Alice should know why Bella is wearing a knee brace and she should tell Jake to back the fuck off and stop making passes at her. What has Alice been doing anyway?

"Okay," she answers him, reaching out to gently curl her fingers around his arm. She knows she's taking a risk, he looks pissed, and who knows if he even wants her to touch him but she can't help it. She needs to touch him.

He leads her in to his office, abruptly stops, and shuts the door. This isn't something he would normally do with any of the other dancers but, then again, she isn't just any other dancer.

Her breathing begins to stutter, his scent enshrouds her as they walk side by side. The warmth of the skin of his arm against her hand radiates out, heating her body all the way to her toes. When he shuts his office door, she feels like she's going to melt into a puddle on the floor. This passion, this intensity she feels near him, every single time, is addictive. She'll never get her fill.

She walks around him after he shuts his door and, carelessly, her toe catches on the leg of a table. She stumbles and curses catching herself on the back of the chair but not before a sharp pain shoots through her knee as it twists, making her wince and her eyes tear.

She slouches down in the seat, her hands reaching out to hold her knee. She closes her eyes and her head falls back on the seat. She's embarrassed and disgusted with herself. Why can't anything be simple?

Then she feels warm hands, familiar hands, atop hers on her knee. Her head shoots up and there he is, squatted down at her feet. He's looking up at her, his eyes darting from her knee to her face and then back again.

She tilts her head to the side, ready to apologize and beg not to get fired.

But he doesn't give her the chance. His fingers are reaching around to loosen the Velcro and free her knee from its elastic confines. His eyes examine her leg, searching for answers, for clues. He doesn't hesitate to push and feel and touch the skin, the muscle, the flesh of her knee, and her leg, with caution and care. He traces her scar with his fingertip, up and down. His heart is racing, his blood is dashing through his body, he doesn't ignore the silk of her skin under his fingers, and the way her body reacts to his touch. But she's hurt, wounded, maybe broken a little, and it causes shock waves of anguish to pulse through him.

He wants to make it better.

Goosebumps break out and cover her flesh. He looks up to her face again and watches as a tear slides down her cheek, and falls to disappear in her lap.

He swallows hard, fighting the urge to kiss her injury, her skin, her lips. Instead, he continues to outline the wrinkle of skin on the inside of her knee with the pad of his thumb.

"What happened?" His voice, low and smooth, eases her little but not enough.

She doesn't want it sound worse that it is, but she wants him to know. "It was a car accident, a couple years ago. Totally wrecked my knee. I'm alright now though. It's just that I haven't pushed myself this hard in while. It was a little swollen this morning." She rambles and grips the edge of her seat tight until her knuckles stretch white while she watches his thumb swipe over and over the ugly reminder of that night.

"And you've been cleared by your doctor to dance?" His business mind momentarily taking over and figuring.

She nods, "Yeah, a year ago."

He listens and his heart aches. How can a person be so sad and dark inside when they move like she does? Like wind and angels and life and sunshine.

"But you haven't danced much in the past year?" He can't stop touching her. He just…can't. Everything feels too right when he does.

She shakes her head, unsure of how much to spill, to reveal, and let go.

"Tell me," he speaks two words, soft and sweet.

She bends and sways, not wanting to keep anything from him—including her past. She doesn't move an inch, too entranced, too spellbound by his caring touch and his tender eyes. "There was this guy, on my twenty-first birthday, we were at this party. I didn't know he had that much to drink. We left and he hit a tree head on."

Her voice is barely louder than a whisper. She hasn't told this story in a long time. She'd rather just forget about it.

"Was he your boyfriend?" He asks, battling with jealousy and sympathy and not knowing which to feel more.

"I wanted him to be, but we weren't serious yet." She doesn't look at him. She doesn't want to see the pity in his eyes. She hates pity. She chooses to focus on the feel of his fingers on her skin instead.

"How is he now?"

"He died instantly." Her voice shakes and she fights the flood of emotions. Even after the nightmares, the therapy, and the medications she still takes, the memories still never fail to jar and upset her. "So, I very well can't complain about a damaged knee, when he lost his life, now, can I?"

He swallows hard. He knows we all have skeletons and demons from our past, some more volatile than others.

"I don't hear you complaining." He's never fought the urge to console someone as he does at this very moment.

"I had to have surgery, twice. I lost my scholarship after I had to quit the dance team. I fell behind on my studies and ended up quitting college. I was depressed. After I got the go ahead to start dancing again, I tried to fill the void in different ways. I tried teaching dance, doing a few local musicals, and I wasted a lot of nights at a clubs and bars but... nothing worked."

His shoulders slump. Her confession weighs heavy on his heart.

"My mother suggested I move here. She heard about Breaking Dawns auditions and," she laughs through her tears, "Even though I didn't have much experience with line dancing, I love it. Please don't make me quit. I have prescription medicine I can take for the pain and I promise not to overdo it. Please, Edward." Her hands cover his as they still circle her knee and she squeezes, "I'm finally starting to feel like me again. Don't take that away. I don't have anything else."

He wants to fall down on his knees and make her promises he can't make. That he'll never make her stop dancing, or make her cry every again, but, he just can't promise that.

"You can't push yourself too hard, Bella. I'd never forgive myself—or Alice—if you did more damage to yourself. Did you bring a copy of your medical records with you to Tennessee?"

He's trying to stay professional and do what his mind says to do, not what his heart screams.

"Yeah, I have them at my mother's house in Pleasant View." She lets go of his hands and wipes the tear tracks from her face.

"Can we go there and get them? Then, I'm going to take you to go and see our resident physician, he's an old family friend, and let him take a look. Okay?"

She wants to argue that she's fine and he really doesn't need to go through such trouble but she'll do anything he says at this point.

"Of course. What about practice?" She points her thumb to the door and the place beyond where she feels like she belongs.

He stands and gathers his personal items from his desk. "You're not practicing today. We will see about tonight later on. Go ahead and change and then we'll go. I'll tell Alice what's going on."

She does what he says. He watches her exit his office and grab her things from the far wall. He can't shake the dread, the hurt, the anxiety that he feels or why he feels that way.

She smiles at the dancers as they watch her cross the floor and pack her bag. Rosalie asks if she's still going to dance tonight.

Edward can see the fear in Bella's eyes as she answers, "Of course I am."

He calls for Alice to come into his office and gives her a basic rundown of events. Alice warns him to take it easy on Bella.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Alice. Just stop." He huffs, walking away to gather Bella and leave.

Alice knows she's angered him but he has a tendency to be broody and discouraging, and that, mixed with the attachment he already feels toward Bella, will only magnify his flaws.

Alice can only hope that Bella can eventually look past all that and like him for the wonderful guy he is.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"You see, when weaving a blanket, an Indian woman leaves a flaw in the weaving of that blanket to let the soul out."<strong>_

_**- Martha Graham**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Knockin' Boots**

**Chapter 5**

As they drive toward Pleasant View, the tension eases between them and they both loosen up. Before they left, she took medicine for her pain, also helping her worry lift. All he had to do is breathe her in. Her scent permeates the small space of his car, forcing him to relax like a calming drug. He borrows some of her intoxicating spirit which causes his cheeks to ache from smiling so much.

They talk and talk and talk. He peppers her with questions wanting to know anything—everything. She doesn't mind. She enjoys talking to him. He seems so interested in all her stories about college and her past dancing experiences. She likes looking at him, watching his facial expression—his smile, his eyes, and the way he looks at her—she relishes in the way it makes her feel.

He tells her little about his past, even after she asks. It feels wrong to hold back things from her, to not say the words that dangle from the tip of his tongue, but his walls have been erected for so long, they're permanent fixtures in his soul. So he takes the easy way out and avoids.

She takes all her old doctor's records with her to visit Edward and Alice's family friend, Dr. Masen.

Edward unenthusiastically gives her and Dr. Masen privacy for her exam, all the while pacing the floor and tugging at his hair in concern. She has to be all right and healthy, to be able to dance. It's all she wants. Edward can give her that so easily. He carries this tiny sliver of hope and optimism that he has something she desires and, if he can give that to her, it would be a gift well-received and treasured.

Plus, he wants her to dance. The world shouldn't be deprived of such.

* * *

><p>Dr. Masen gives her the green light albeit with some limitations and warnings. All things she's heard before—no spinning and jumping, keep equal balance, and rest as much as she can, etc, etc.<p>

She doesn't hesitate to jump into Edward's arms as they leave the doctor's office and he doesn't falter, catching and holding her close as she giggles. He gives her a little spin which elicits a squeal and a tightening of her arms around his neck.

He wonders if feeling this blissful is possible every day.

She wonders if it would be wrong to ask him to never let her go.

"I told you I was fine," she says as he sets her back down on the ground beside his car. Her hand is still clutching the shoulder of his shirt.

"I had to be sure," he admits with sincerity as he battles to step away from her or not.

She looks up at his face and her breath catches. It's the first time she's seen his eyes in the natural sunlight of day. His irises are so green and deep, a blend of olives and moss and forest. She finds herself consumed in that jade woodland, longing to never leave.

He looks down at her, the brilliance of daylight bringing out the highlights of her hair—the darks, the lights, and the reds, giving her a prismatic halo. He notes the freckles that scatter across her nose and her cheeks. His eyes migrate to her brown eyes, sprinkled with cinnamon and rust. He finds himself falling—swiftly and carelessly.

Amazed, he backs away.

What's wrong with him? What kind of spell has she cast over him?

She clears her throat and opens her car door.

He's over thinking again, but he can't help it. He takes big steps and walks backwards to his own door, shaking his head. He's never been so confused in his life.

As she relaxes in the car, she can't help but smile—maybe there's hope for her yet.

Tonight, she gets to dance. And, there's that other thing, there's this guy—there's Edward. He seems to be attracted to her too but, for reasons she's not sure of, he's hesitant. Too reluctant.

She hopes it's nothing a few dances won't take care of.

* * *

><p>When they get back to the club, he offers his loft for her to shower and dress before she goes downstairs to perform at Breaking Dawn tonight.<p>

She didn't know he lived above the club. Then again, she doesn't know much about him. She slowly walks through his open space, taking in the bare walls and simple furniture. She sees his cowboys boots toppled over by his couch and his wide brimmed hat on the bedside table. His plaid button down shirt, worn and wrinkled, slung over the edge of his bed, and a crumpled pair of jeans litter his floor, belt unfastened and still threaded through the loops.

It makes her curious and excited.

What she notices more than anything is the musk that invades her senses as soon as she steps into his private space. A spice she has become familiar with and will never tire of, a smell she only craves more of—the scent of Edward Cullen.

He sits on his couch waiting for her. The music gets louder from downstairs, but he expects as much, it is a Friday night after all.

He tries not to concentrate on the sound of water running and splashing mere steps away from where he sits. Water that's cleaning a naked body, a body he has been dreaming about since he laid eyes on her. And now, there's a personality to pin to that dreamy figure—sweet, dedicated, honest, gorgeous... real.

And very wet and buck-naked in his shower.

He jumps up and hastily decides he should go on downstairs without her, discontinue this sweet torture he's putting himself through. He writes a note informing her to lock up behind herself, and come on down when she's ready. He tapes it to his front door.

He grabs the door knob, looking in the direction of his bathroom one more time, waiting for what, he's not sure. A bothersome nagging pulls on his chest but he squashes it down, gently shutting the door behind himself.

Bella towel dries her hair and brushes out the tangles. She waits to fix it until she gets to the dressing room downstairs. She drops her towel and slips on her outfit. The Daisy Duke shorts fit her perfectly across her backside thanks to their stretchy denim and the plaid, buttoned shirt tied up under her boobs gives her just enough cleavage. She doesn't deny she looks good.

She slowly exits his bathroom, looking around, calling out his name. She doesn't see him but she notices the piece of paper taped to his closed front door.

She smiles as she reads it. He thought enough to leave her note.

She carries her boots over to his couch and sits down. She places her boots on the floor beside her and reaches out to pet his soft, leather couch. She leans back and takes in her surroundings. She can see herself liking it here, it wouldn't take her long at all.

She's startled as she hears the thumping sound of music from the club two levels down getting louder. Does that not ever bother him?

She huffs as she slips on her boots and gathers her things. She stills at his front door for just a moment, looking around one last time, savoring. She doesn't say it aloud, but the thought does go through her mind.

'I will be back.'

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order."<strong>_

_**- Samuel Beckett**_


	6. Chapter 6

_Song: **She's Country **by **Jason Aldean **(lyrics will always be in italics)_

* * *

><p><strong>Knockin' Boots<strong>

**Chapter 6**

Alice goes over the evenings dance schedule with Bella—three line dances and three freestyles within the first hour, mingle for an hour or so afterward, one more line dance, and then Bella can freestyle whatever she wants. She's not nervous about dancing in front of a crowd but rather forgetting the steps or missing the start, silly things like that.

She runs a curling iron through the ends of her hair, enhancing her natural wave. She only slightly darkens her eyelids and adds a little red to her lips.

Edward meanders around the club like he always does—helping Jasper tend bar when he gets behind; assisting Emmett, the bodyguard, when someone gets too rowdy; and talking with Pete, the DJ, about the nights set list.

He doesn't let his nerves show even though it feels like a swarm of butterflies have taken flight in his stomach. He's already had a couple of shots of Jack Daniels and they've helped him relax some, but he's still anxious.

Truthfully, he can't wait to see her dance again.

"Come on, girl! Time to make your debut!" The lead dancer, Rosalie grabs her arm and they scramble off toward the stage. Adrenaline replaces nervousness and Bella can hardly contain her excitement.

Pete makes an announcement directing everyone's attention to the low stage. The lights brighten behind the curtain and all the dancers take their place side by side with Bella front and center. Pete yells out the newcomer's name and the roar of the crowd intensifies.

Edward moseys to the side of the bar, finding an empty spot in employee territory to watch the stage. He knows it's almost show time. His beer is getting warm; he's been too preoccupied to drink it. He contemplates getting another when Pete's voice blares over the speaker system and everything—including his beer—is forgotten.

The heavy curtain begins to lift and the opening chords of the song boom through the speakers. She's in the spotlight with her head tipped down but he can still see the smile on her face.

Her fingers are tucked into the front pocket of her shorts with one knee bent crossing one foot over the other. Memory and passion take over and she begins—exactly on cue and moving in step with the rest of the dance line.

_~o~_

_She's a hot little number in her pick-up truck_

_Daddy's sweet money done jacked it up_

_She's a party-all-nighter from South Carolina,_

_a bad mamajama from down in Alabama_

_She's a raging Cajun, a lunatic from Brunswick, juicy Georgia peach_

_With a thick southern drawl, sexy swing and walk, brother she's all... Country_

_~o~_

Her steps, flawless. Her moves, flirtatious. The look in her eyes, suggestive and mischievous. He looks around the club and notices he's not the only one watching her, it's everyone. Her hands bury in her hair, she pops her hips, she gives a sexy smile.

He's mesmerized watching her. The way her mouth falls open or sometimes she bites on her lip. The way she rolls her body or kicks her shapely legs. Her hands flirt around her frame. He's never been more aroused, ever.

She feels alive and powerful from the energy the crowd gives her. Intensity thrums through the air as she feels his gaze upon her. It didn't take her long to spot him, a god among mortals. She feels his admiration from clear across the room. His eyes warm her body, encouraging her seduction. She dances solely for him—to entice him, to draw him closer, to break down his walls and have him succumb…to her.

She focuses on him, and him alone. She lets her body speak to him through her movements. If that doesn't work, nothing will. He gives her extra spring in her toes, a reason to fly.

She sets the room on fire, her spirit and energy ricocheting around the club. She makes the night hotter than it already was, the dark moon generating more heat than the sun, and it's all because of her.

As the night progresses, he circulates around the club, trying to stay hidden. He knows she saw him watching her. The looks they shared were intense, making him feel weak and out of control. He doesn't know how she does that to him.

She keeps a look out for him but doesn't see him anywhere. She's disappointed. Why is he avoiding her so?

She's lavished with lots of attention from the patrons of the club introducing themselves to her. Some ask to dance and she obliges. Despite missing him, she's having a great time. She turns down date after date and more than one offer to get frisky.

He's never been a jealous man, not until tonight, not even with Charlotte. He sees everyone beg for her attention, devouring her with their eyes. They hold her hips as they dance and they touch her in ways that don't set right with him. He demands Emmett to keep a close watch on her and not let anyone get too hand-sy using the excuse that it's her first night and that she's new. Not admitting the truth—that he's green-eyed and protective.

The next few weeks repeat the same pattern.

She dances. He watches from a distance, ignoring the pull and the want. Every now and then, their eyes lock. They both smile, flirt and tease. It almost feels like the rubber band that has kept them apart is about to break and recoil.

She knows when he's there watching her. She always doesn't see him but she can feel his gaze all over her skin, responding to him in ways she can't fathom, control, or dismiss.

Sometimes she feels like giving up, thinking that he's not too interested in her, not enough anyway. She doesn't welcome all the attention she gets from the male patrons of the club but she rather takes it with a grain of salt and has fun with it.

Alice teaches everyone a new dance, **Take You Home**. Bella loves the music and the steps. There are eight girls and four boys on the dance crew and they practice the new routine several times a day but haven't set a date to debut it at Breaking Dawn.

She can't wait, it will be the ideal dance for her to dance for him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Dance is the hidden language of the soul."<strong>_

_**- Martha Graham**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Knockin' Boots**

**Chapter 7**

Alice invites Bella to hang out with her on her first night off. They still make a plan to go to the club but Bella won't be under any obligation to dance. She looks forward to just sitting around and enjoying a drink.

The more they drink, the more they laugh and giggle. Bella even snorts sometimes. Her, Alice, and Jasper sit around a small table and make fun of some of the people around them that are trying to dance.

Bella hasn't had this much fun in a long time.

Bella is invited to dance a few times, but this time she gently lets down her admirers and promises next time.

All at once, something in the air shifts. Bella sets her drink down, looking around the bar for the source of the disturbance, and soon enough, she sees him.

His shoulders slump forward as he stands at bar, right beside a tall, beautiful blond. Her hands are on his arm but he seems stiff and rigid. Even though he's shaking his head at the blond and scowling at her, Bella's heart still breaks a little. She should've known he was involved. A man like him doesn't stay single for long.

Alice notices Bella's mood shift and follows her sight line to see Edward and Charlotte standing together at the bar. It's obvious they are arguing again. Alice wonders why Charlotte even bothers anymore. Shouldn't she give up already?

"You want to leave?" Alice asks Bella, giving Jasper an all-knowing look. Alice still doesn't understand why Edward avoids Bella the way he does. All she can figure is that his emotions are too strong, too baffling, to handle right now.

The only thing is—Alice isn't sure how long Bella will wait.

"Who was Edward with?" Bella questions as they ride back to Alice's house. Bella just can't forget about it. She has to know.

"That was Charlotte, Edward's ex-wife. I really can't stand her."

Bella swallows hard at the truth. She hates that even after weeks of working at the club that she still doesn't know much about Edward.

"I didn't know he'd been married before," Bella admits with disappointment.

Alice senses Bella's agitation and defeat. She sees her struggle to understand and Alice gets this feeling it's time for her to step in. "I know, there are a lot of things you don't know about Edward, Bella. When we get home, I'll try to explain."

For the first time in a week, or more, Bella feels hopeful and optimistic.

* * *

><p>Edward slams his front door, more pissed than he's been in awhile. Finally she's gone. He can't wrap his head around why his bitch of an ex-wife keeps coming back, begging for a second chance.<p>

Hell would have to freeze over first.

He's also on edge because he only saw Bella tonight for a brief second and, when he did, Char was attached to him like a leech.

She complicates his world just by existing.

He's been working up his nerve to try and build on the attraction he has to Bella. He's been planning on spending more time with her, maybe even asking her out for a day away from the club.

Then Charlotte shows up and sucks the life right out of him and on Bella's night off at that. Bella might have even seen him with Charlotte and got the wrong idea.

No doubt Alice will inform Bella of his baggage and it may turn her off even more.

He flops down on his bed and curses under his breath. He can't stop wishing that Bella was lying right beside him then, his bed has been too empty and lonely for too long.

* * *

><p>Alice hands Bella a picture album. Bella looks up at her questioningly. Alice eases down beside her on the couch as Bella opens up the first page with shaky hands.<p>

Tears sting Bella's eyes as she sees the beautiful, young boy standing with Alice. Page after page Bella and Alice gaze upon a younger Edward and Alice. Alice tells her of all the competitions they competed in and won. Bella is stunned with wonder and awe. Bella notices the transformation of the cute, darling boy into a gorgeous, handsome man.

"Edward's mother was our dance teacher. Have you ever heard of Esmeralda Grace?"

Bella nods. Of course she's heard of her. What dancer hasn't? In Mrs. Grace's day, she was one of the best dancers in the world.

"She's Edward's mother, she-"

Bella cuts Alice off. She must have misunderstood. "Wait! Did you say Esmeralda Grace is Edward's mother?" Bella can't believe it. She just can't. Once, she had heard a rumor that Esme had taught a few to dance and that her son was a dancing prodigy but that couldn't be Edward, could it?

"Yeah, Esme's my aunt and Edward's mother. We danced under her for many years." Alice begins to shake her head. Here," she points back to the first page, "we were ten and had just placed first in Nationals. It was said that Edward was one of the most promising dancers of our time. He had the world at his fingertips."

Bella gets to the last page in Alice's picture book and there's a wedding picture. A crowd of men and women gather around Edward and the blond from the bar in the center. Edward is dressed in a tux and the blond is wearing a beautiful wedding dress.

"When we were sixteen, Edward made it known he was tired of tutors and being home-schooled. He told Esme that he wanted to go to a public school and do things that normal teenage boys do. He wanted to play baseball and go to school dances. He wanted to be in a school play and hang out in the school parking lot for hours with his friends, friends he didn't even have yet. Esme couldn't tell him no. So he took a sabbatical from dancing and enrolled in high school for his junior year."

Alice closes the book and pulls it into her lap. She takes a deep breath before she continues, "That's when he met Charlotte. He thought he was in love, blah, blah, blah. Charlotte was a controlling person, and Edward, he just let her. His mother pleaded with him to start dancing again but Charlotte wouldn't have it. She told him real men don't dance, so he quit. He broke his mother's heart and he put a real strain on the family for years. They stayed together through high school, got married, and she convinced him he should become a lawyer. So he went to law school to make her happy. About five years in, he came home in the middle of the day to surprise her. He found her in bed with a close friend of his. She ruined him. He'd been controlled by her for so long, he forgot how to live for himself."

Alice turns to look at Bella, "She comes to Nashville a couple of times a year to keep dibs on him. When he first moved here, after he quit law school, she'd show up and he'd take her back. She'd stay for a few months and then they'd start to argue. She'd leave or he'd kick her out. Their relationship was never about love. It was about money for her, complacency for him. Finally, he got tired of it but, even after all these years, she still tries. It's pathetic."

Bella doesn't know what to say.

"Bella, I think Edward is intimated by you. I can tell he likes you more than he lets on, more than he wants to. For so long he's refused to let himself love. It's frightening for him. He compares being in love to not being in control of anything. I don't know if you can, just…just be patient with him. I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm asking..."

Alice stands and puts the album away. She hopes that she has helped plead Edward's case rather than hurt it.

What Alice doesn't know is that the wheels have already begun to turn in Bella's head, she hasn't given up on him yet. The challenge has only just begun.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Some men have thousands of reasons why <strong>__**they cannot do what they want to,**_

_**when all they need is one reason why they can."**_

_**- Martha Graham**_


	8. Chapter 8

_Song 1: **Wanna Take You Home** by **Gloriana (the song & dance that started it all) **_

_Song 2: **Storm Warning** by **Hunter Hayes**_

* * *

><p><strong>Knockin' Boots<strong>

**Chapter 8**

Knowing his past gives her some clearer insight. She doesn't want to come on too strong. She wants the chance to be closer to him, to become better friends, and to see where it takes them.

Over the course of the following week, she makes a point to say hello and start conversations with him whenever she can. Most of the time it's over loud music at the crowded bar, but it's better than nothing. They don't get much alone time, but it's a start. Subtlety quickly becomes her ally.

She's always touching him, innocently but with intent. She wants him to feel comfortable around her, to let down his walls a little, if not completely.

Sometimes, she sees the hesitation in his eyes, sensing he's about to pull away, and that's when she gives him some space. This relationship, this friendship that they're destined to have, she knows it has to be on his terms.

She's good with that.

However, when she's dancing, it's a whole other story. She watches him, he watches her, and no one can deny their attraction. The draw, the passion that radiates between them, is as if they're the only two in the room and everyone should be thankful for the air and space that's in between them. Otherwise, the building might combust from their heat.

Many nights he lays awake in his bed. A battle of wits and desires wages between his mind and his body.

He patiently waits everyday for the snippets of time when she gives him her full attention. They're friendly and it's the most natural thing in the world, but he holds back. Not reaching out to touch her. Not pulling her close to kiss her pink lips. Not hoisting her over his shoulder to take her upstairs and locking his door for days because that's what he wants to do, so badly.

He's entranced when she dances, loving nothing more than to see her joy and excitement, her fervor. Her moves are both fluid and precise. When she's on the line with the other girls she moves in perfect synchronicity as though she's been performing with them her whole life.

But when she freestyles, that's when she lets the music move through her, lost in herself. He's aroused, hard and ready for her. Her body is an aphrodisiac. She makes him feel like he's seventeen again and ready to take on the world after a night lost in between the sheets.

She makes him want to throw caution to the wind—to fall down on his knees, to go steady like they did in the good ole days, to find himself committed to her, only her, and she to him.

If only it was that easy.

* * *

><p>One day before practice, she and Alice are looking through their music and she gets an idea.<p>

"Alice, does Edward still dance?"

Alice sighs, "Can Edward dance? Yes. Will Edward dance? No. He helps me clean up a few of our dances every now and then, but that's it."

"Why?" Bella asks confused.

"Two years ago, his mother passed away. He never got to dance for her again. So now, he feels like he's betraying her if he dances," Alice states with a sad face.

Tears spring to Bella's eyes but she fights to not let them fall.

"I think... I think he just needs a good reason to dance," Alice says with a shrug and a sly smile.

* * *

><p>For days, Bella ponders how to get Edward to dance with her. When she's working and mingling on the floor it's sometimes difficult to find him. But when she gets on stage, he seems to materialize like an apparition with his sight glued on her.<p>

She's always looking for an opportunity to grab him and drag him to the dance floor but so far, she's been empty handed.

Tonight the dancers are going to finally dance the **Take You Home** for the first time. Bella's antsy. She wants to dance this song for him so very much. When she wiggles her fingers it will be only to him. When she thinks about who she's going home with it will be him. Even if it's only a wish, a dream.

He heard from Alice that tonight the dancers will do their new dance. He hasn't seen it yet but Alice says it's hot. He rolls his eyes at the thought. When she's up there, every dance is a display of sex and always so hot it sizzles.

Before Bella takes the stage, Alice pulls her off to the side. "Hey, Bella! I forgot to mention it to you but today is mine and Jasper's anniversary. After closing, we're having a little, private party. Will you stay?"

Bella wraps her arms around Alice with a bone-crushing hug. "Of course I will! Why didn't you tell me before? I would have gotten you two a present!" she pouts.

Alice slaps her on the backside, "I have an idea of what you can give me. I'll tell you later. Just get out there and dance!"

Bella runs to take her position on stage, shaking her head at the ideas of what Alice might have her do.

Tonight, she lets her hair hang loose. Last night, she had it in low pigtails. She loves changing up her outfit but sometimes simple is better. Once, she tried to wear a cowgirl hat and it kept falling off her head. She likes to sling and finger her hair too often to dance in a hat, no matter how good it makes her look.

As soon as the lyrics start, she begins to stomp her boots against the floor. Instantly, she sees him and her blood races quicker. He's not dressed in his usual long sleeve t-shirt and dark jeans. Tonight, he looks the part—her cowboy. His button-up shirt is stretched snugly across his chest with his sleeves rolled-up and cuffed. His shirt is tucked in and even from across the room she can see the large 'C' on his belt buckle. His jeans fit tight down his front and his thighs and loose over his worn, brown Roper boots. It's the first time she's seen him in the cowboy hat that she remembers lying near his bed. She notices that when he glances downward it hides his eyes and that makes her want toss the hat aside—along with the rest of what he's wearing.

_~o~_

_Well I've been watching you girl_

_The way you move got the room on fire_

_Oh yeah rock my world_

_Wanna take you home with me_

_~o~_

He stands in his usual spot, his body alive with enthusiasm and want. The music starts and he knows the song, it's a fun little ditty. It often reminds him of her. This is the the first time he's ever seen the official line dance for it. Alice told him a few days ago that this would be one of the required dances at the World finals.

As he watches her he thinks about his plans for the night. Tonight, he plans on getting to know Bella Swan. No matter what, it's finally time.

She glides across the stage—toes pointed, hips swirling, hands disappearing in her hair. There's a part of the dance where they all make a come-hither motion with their fingers. It doesn't go unnoticed that she motions to him, only him, while mouthing the lyrics.

~o~

_You should never be lonely_

_You're the best that I've ever seen_

_~o~_

Her eyes seduce him. The motions of her body are a siren call. Her shoulders dip and curl. It's all he can do to not move to claim her. How has he resisted so long?

~o~

_I wanna lay you down next to me_

_I wanna ease your mind and maybe set you free_

_Can't you see_

_I wanna take you home with me_

_~o~_

The girls line up on the front of the stage, they bend forward and shake their ass toward the crowd. Edward doesn't recognize the sound that escapes his lips—something between a moan and a growl. He isn't alone enjoying the show. The roar of the club is so deafening that it feels like the walls are vibrating.

~o~

_Lay your body next to me_

_All your troubles up and leave_

_Ease my mind and set me free_

_Come on_

_Come on_

_~o~_

He finds himself daydreaming, lost in his desires and doesn't realize the song is over and the dancers have cleared the stage.

She finds him still standing in the same place he was moments ago while she was dancing. She moves in close and leans up on the tips of her toes, her fingertips spread out to balance herself on his stomach, right above his belt. She doesn't notice that his abs harden and clench under her touch. "Did you like it? The dance?" she shouts close to his ear.

He needs to find the words and not concentrate on her touching him and the vibration that's radiating out of her fingertips. Instinctively, he reaches out to hold onto her elbow and he nods, "Yeah, you did great." He sounds out of breath when he talks, because, yeah—she does that to him.

He observes that her face is flushed and red from dancing and she's breathing a little hard. That causes him to glance down to her breasts that are pushed up and enticing, it's all he can do to look away from her chest.

Her hands slip slow and persuasive around his stomach, coming to rest on his sides. "I love that dance. It's so much fun. Do you know it?" She picks at him hoping he will say no, she knows he doesn't.

He leans toward her just a little, "No. That's a new one to me." His lips linger close to her ear, a bit longer than they should. He inhales her, just a little, just a tease.

She grips at the cotton on the sides of his shirt, "Maybe I can teach you sometime?" She asks with a tilt of her head, her eyes looking deep and welcoming at him.

He needs to occupy himself with something, and quick. He lifts his beer to his mouth and gulps most of it. It does nothing to quench his burn.

She doesn't move away. She watches him nurse his beer, getting more turned on by the second, wishing to be that intimate with his lips.

He licks away the alcohol residue from his lips. "I think that could be arranged," he blurts out not knowing if he really means it or not but he can't deny her anything.

The next song comes on but she doesn't move away from him. She stands there in front of him, fisting his shirt in her hands, swaying her hips, her thighs and knees sliding against his legs. He stands rigid and taut, aching to respond to her body, but timid as to what it may lead to—no matter how bad he wants it.

_~o~_

_She rolled in from the west in a summer sun dress hotter than the heat in July_

_With her wind blown hair it just wasn't fair the way she was blowing my mind_

_Have you ever noticed every hurricane gets its name from a girl like this_

_She's the cat five kind keeps you up at night hanging on to the edge of a kiss_

_She's a beautiful miss, yeah the kind you love to love_

_But what happens next..._

_~o~_

Her arms raise up over her head, teasing her hair on their way. She turns around to rest her backside against his front and never misses a beat.

It's too much, he can't resist. His free hand finds her hip and pulls her to him a little bit closer. He begins to feel a wash of relief and satisfaction cover him as his hand meets the silk of her bare skin.

_~o~_

_I'm gonna wish I had a storm warning_

_I'm gonna wish I had a sign_

_I'm gonna wish I had a little heads up, little lee-way, little more time_

_Some kind of radar system, locked in on love_

_I got a feeling by the time the night finds the morning_

_I'm gonna wish I had a storm warning_

_~o~_

He's swaying slightly in rhythm with her. She feels him behind her, his tight jeans, thick and rough, against her back. She keeps herself from grinding on him like a cat in heat. His hand splays open on the naked skin of her waist, his thumb pressing in on her back. She needs him closer, she wants him all over her.

She's dancing on cloud number nine now—all thanks to him and his attention.

He takes his last drink and sets his empty beer bottle on the bar freeing both his hands to hold onto her. Her waist is so small and fits his grasp with ease. He lets his mind wander freely, not thinking too much, just enjoying the now—the feel of her against him, cuddled close to him, the completeness he has never felt.

Until now.

_~o~_

_Ain't it funny how it feels when you're burning your wheels somewhere between going and gone_

_You get so lost that you can't turn it off, you give in and you just turn it on_

_She's a heart full of rain, red lips like a flame, she's the girl from your favorite song_

_What a beautiful mess,_

_A one part angel, one part perfect, one part brick_

_The kind of flood you'll never forget_

_~o~_

He holds her tighter now. Her hands hold onto his seam on the outside of his thighs. They move in tandem, not really dancing but not standing still. It's a slow persuasion, a prelude to what could be.

It's the best night they've ever had—if they'd only let it happen.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Dancing is all about wordless communication –<strong>_

_**a light pull on a shoulder,**_

_**a step forward and a shift of weight,**_

_**a shared understanding of the music**_

_**and how it moves bodies."**_

_**- Jasper Winn**_


	9. Chapter 9

_Song: **Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not **by **Thompson Square**_

* * *

><p><strong>Knockin' Boots<strong>

**Chapter 9**

She's free for the next few songs and stays right where she is, with him. So close, they're almost one. They don't speak, just shifting with the music. Back, forth, left, right. She's pressed against him, his hands still gripping her waist.

Her radiant smile is so wide and full that her cheeks ache.

He's at the edge, the place where he's sure to fall. He can see it now—totally falling head over heels. She feels like perfection in his hands, like it's right where she's meant to be. He wants to pull her closer, but he resists, postpones. Now is not the time.

Alice stands off to the side watching them. She couldn't be more satisfied with Edward and Bella if they were her puppets and she was their master. Her plan is falling in place even better than if she had, well... planned it.

If only Edward and Bella knew what she had up her sleeve. By the time this night is through, if they don't act on their attraction, Alice may just have to lock them in a room alone together and hide the key. She giggles thinking that may not be a very bad idea.

But first, the music. All the songs she has lined up are for Edward and Bella. They're sexy and provocative and not too subtle. Tonight's the night for reckless and unruly.

Pete comes over the speakers and announces that all dancers need to grab a partner and head to the main dance floor for the **Texas Two Step.**

Bella's heart starts to pound. This is it. She wants him as her partner. She feels his hands squeeze her waist a little tighter and briefly wonders how this will go.

Edward wants to cuss Pete right now, his night had pretty much been sublime until just now. He knows the Two Step, she knows the Two Step, and they could probably do it pretty flawlessly together, but he doesn't dance. Not anymore. Doesn't she know?

She peps herself up. It's now or never.

She turns and takes one small step backward. She grabs one of his hands with both of hers and gives him a mild tug. Her eyes beg and plead.

He doesn't budge.

"Come dance with me," she mouths as she pulls on his hand a little harder. His shoulders lean forward but the look in his eyes is not encouraging.

He's stuck—damned if he does and damned if he doesn't.

She steps one more step, their hands now barely reaching the other, "Please."

His back comes off the wall and his feet shuffle.

Shit, he wants to. If he doesn't go out there with her she'll ask someone else, she has to.

She feels him relenting by the give in his stance.

"Come on," she pulls harder and he folds.

She winks.

He shakes his head.

She links her fingers with his and breathes a sigh of relief.

He's going to dance with her.

He concedes and follows her to her spot on the floor. He waits for the guilt to kick in and quash his elevated mood but he only feels the sweetest of bliss.

He stands behind her, right arm draped across her shoulders and holding her right hand and their left hands also joined.

She's so excited. This is what she's been waiting for, a tiny stepping stone on their path to more.

The music starts and Edward glances up to see Alice standing at the deejay booth. She gives him the thumbs up as the circle starts to move. He rolls his eyes. Of course, she would have to pick this song.

~o~

_We were sittin' up there on your momma's roof_

_Talkin' 'bout everything under the moon_

_With the smell of honeysuckle and your perfume_

_All I could think about was my next move_

_~o~_

They make the steps like the seasoned dancers they are. From his spot behind her, he leads her like a king. Their hands separate so they can each turn and easily reconnect and grasp.

She loves the weight of his arm around her, the feel of her hands in his, the way he persuades her to move. She very well may be compelled by him as he twirls her fast yet steady, her hair billowing out and hitting against his arm.

They step and twirl and move together as if there was any other way to do it, no misstep between them.

She turns to him face-to-face and a mix of longing and merriment fills the small space between them. He notices that she's blushing when he realizes he was singing along. He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows.

~o~

_Are we gonna do this or what?_

_I think you know I like you a lot_

_But you're 'bout to miss your shot_

_Are you gonna kiss me or not?_

_~o~_

He doesn't stop singing because, hey—you never know.

Alice and her stupid, yet perfect songs.

* * *

><p>Once the dance is over, she steps in and hugs him. She feels like she just hurdled one of his walls and it was easier than she thought. Progress.<p>

He wraps his arms around her waist returning her embrace, pulling her closer. She's done more for him than she realizes.

"Thanks for the dance," she says against his cheek right before she places her lips there and chastely kissing him, lingering as long as she can.

She sniffs his rough skin, memorizing the texture and warmth against her mouth. If only time would still for just a moment.

She's forced to let go of his hand and walk away from him much sooner than she'd like but duty calls. She's due on stage in five for the next line dance.

He knows why she's walking away. He's also aware of the fact that he hates to let her go.

He stumbles back to his spot to watch the stage, his head still clouded and dazed.

He danced. He danced with her and it was perfect.

He thinks he wants to do it again…and soon.

And there was a kiss, just a tease of a kiss really, that left him wanting more.

Much, much more.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"A man who knows how to dance can make any woman feel good."<strong>_

_**- Barbara Haller**_


	10. Chapter 10

_Song 1: __**I Like The Way You Move **__by __**Bodyrockers**_  
><em>Song 2: <em>_**Bad Things**__ by __**Jace Everett**_

**(the rest of this fic has not been beta'd by zaza yet, she had to go and take a vaca & I was all sorts of fail in getting it to her in time.

See, there was this movie... OMG!

but when I get the chapters back from her, I will replace them.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Knockin' Boots<strong>

**Chapter 10**

The next two hours zip by as the club winds down and empties. Only close friends and family of Jasper and Alice stick around and wait for the other patrons to leave.

They close off a few sections of Breaking Dawn Saloon, only leaving the main dance floor and the space around the bar open for the party. Alice even decorates with some streamers and balloons. She also brings a large square chocolate cake out and sits it on the counter top.

They both had been busy since their shared dance, Edward had to jump in and assist Jasper in getting caught up with drink orders and she had more dancing and mingling to do.

But being busy hasn't stopped either one of them from thinking about the other, the possibilities, the maybe-s, the what-ifs and the why-nots.

Alice catches up with Bella as she heads toward the practice dressing room to change her clothes. Both ladies opt to dress casual in short skirts and t-shirts. Bella figured Alice would wear a fancy dress or something, but she keeps surprising Bella.

Bella wears the only outfit she had with her, the one she brought to wear home. A short denim skirt and an over worn 'Bite Me' t-shirt that fits a little too snug everywhere. But it's from her favorite vampire movie, so she'll never get rid of it.

She keeps on her boots and throws her head forward to ruffle her hair. She tosses her hair back and looks herself over in the full length mirrors.

"Bella, I don't know if any of the girls have told you, but when I have a party, it gets kinda crazy. See, we listen to all this whiny country music every night, all night long. So when I have free reign to play what I want, it's loud and dirty. Rock, hip hop... whatever. Just be prepared and feel free to dance or …not. There's just one thing I want to ask you..."

Bella turns and stands in front of her with amusement painted all over her face. She can't imagine Alice dancing to rap or hip-hop, that'll be something she's looking forward to seeing, among other things. "Sure, it's your day after all, so what is it?"

Alice looks around, making sure they're alone. "Don't take this the wrong way, but would you be offended if I asked you to dance with another girl? Just the two of you on stage? Jasper loves shit like that and truthfully, I don't mind it myself. It could be my present from you. Maybe? Please…"

Alice clasps her hands together in front of her in a praying gesture and bends her knees a little. She cringes waiting on Bella's response.

What Alice doesn't notice is the breath of relief that escapes Bella's lips as soon as Alice says 'dance with another girl.' Bella was afraid she was going to ask her to strip or even worse, to sing on stage.

"Of course I'll do that for you. What and who do you have in mind?"

Alice squeals and jumps up and down before tugging Bella toward the stairs. "Oh my gawd Bella, just wait."

* * *

><p>He watches. He waits. He saw Alice follow her up the stairs and it made him wonder. He knows Alice well. He'd bet all the cash in his wallet that Alice has something up her sleeve.<p>

He doesn't know if he's more worried or excited for what may conspire because of Alice and her ploys.

Bella returns downstairs and sees him lingering at a table talking to Jasper. He looks so relaxed and free, almost happy.

His elbows propped on the tabletop.

His beer bottle close to his mouth.

His hat still on his head as he gently nods with the music.

His shirt stretched tight against his shoulder blades.

His jeans fitting snug in all the right places.

She ponders how long it would be it's considered inappropriate for her to just stand in one spot and stare at him.

He feels her reenter the room. He turns his head to find her, his crooked smile emerging as soon as he does. He stands straight, taller, daring and confident. He motions for her to join him with a nod of his head.

Like a magnet, she goes. Letting the pull, the draw, close the distance between them. She saunters slow and sure. Ready. Determined.

He sees her approaching, like a lioness and he wonders if he's her prey or her mate.

He looks her down head to toe and back up. Clothes are irrelevant, she looks so damn fine in anything—in air, or light, or shadows, or fog.

_~o~_

_There's so many things i like about you, I.._

_I just don't know where to begin._

_I like the way you, look at me with those beautiful eyes..._

_~o_~

Alice's music doesn't go unnoticed by him. He thinks Alice is being too obvious and pushy, but then again, what else is new?

_~o~_

_I like the way you, clap your hands,_

_I like the way you, love to dance,_

_I like the way you, put your hands up in the air,_

_I like the way you, shake your hair,_

_I like the way you, like to touch_

_~o_~

She gets closer to him and he sits his bottle on the table. He shifts his whole body to face her, almost in a challenge—one she accepts without a second thought.

He stands there like a cool drink of water and it makes her feel like she's thirsting to death.

She reaches their table and she stops and stands close to him, her side to his front, clothes brushing clothes. She can feel this chest moving against her shoulder, his stance widening to accommodate her.

"Hey Bella," Jasper begins a conversation with her, but Edward is too preoccupied trying to figure out what to say, to do, where to start, where to stop, that he doesn't even join in.

She's swaying with the music, trying her best to ignore the words and not press herself against him. She wants to. She needs to find that subtlety again. He's too quiet, too withdrawn. She fears that she's been coming on too strong.

_~o~_

_I like the way you, stare so much,_

_but most of all..._

_Yeah.._

_most of all..._

_I like the way you move..._

_~o~_

He bends and leans in a little, he welcomes the tickle of her hair as it meets his face. "Here, I got you a beer." He retracts and pushes the bottle toward her.

"Thanks," she takes the chance and glances up. Brown meets green and she swims and he flies.

She brings the open bottle to her lips and turns it up.

Never has he wanted to be an inanimate object in the way he does right now. He remembers those lips, they way the kiss, the way they feel against his cheek.

"Hey kids!" Alice shouts as she and Jasper return to join them at their table, somewhat deflating their intimate bubble, but not popping it completely.

The song fades into another, "Look." Alice commands to them as the lights dim on the crowd and brighten on the stage.

Edward and Bella both turn toward the front stage, now standing side my side.

Rosalie is joined with Emmett. He sits innocently in a chair that has been placed in the center of the stage.

But as soon as Rose begins to dance around him and on him, there isn't anything innocent about it. She straddles his chair and dances atop him.

_~o~_

_When you came in the air went out._

_And every shadow filled up with doubt._

_I don't know who you think you are,_

_But before the night is through,_

_I wanna do bad things with you._

_~o~_

Rosalie proves to be very seductive. The whole bar falls into a hush, it almost seems as though everyone is eavesdropping on a private moment, but no one looks away.

What Bella can't overcome is how much watching this, listening to the song, almost living it, makes her want to mount Edward in every sense of the word. Her breathing quickens, her pulse doubles. To her it feels as though the heat kicks on and makes the room too hot.

_~o~_

_I don't know what you've done to me,_

_But I know this much is true:_

_I wanna do bad things with you._

_~o~_

She realizes that watching this turns her on so much it makes her panties wet, she shifts her thighs together to try and ease the ache.

He can't believe Alice is doing this. Why does Alice insist on torturing him so?

This song. These lyrics. The lap dance by Rose. The way Bella is reacting. The way it is making him react to her reacting.

_~o~_

_I don't know who you think you are,_

_But before the night is through,_

_I wanna do bad things with you._

_I wanna do real bad things with you._

_~o~_

He doesn't know how much more he can take. He keeps glancing from the stage to Bella. Her eyes are wide and dilated. Her breathing is fast. She's shifting back and forth on her feet. She's avoiding looking directly at him.

Does that mean what he thinks it means?

Could she desire him the same?

There's only one way to find out.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"A dancer's body is her temple"<strong>_

_**- Paulette Rees-Denis**_


	11. Chapter 11

_Song: **Tonight (I'm Fucking You) **by **Enrique Iglesias** ((this song! just WOW)_

* * *

><p><strong>Knockin' Boots<strong>

**Chapter 11**

The small crowd erupts in a cheer of whistles and yells when Rosalie finishes her dance. Emmett is all smiles and even a little light on his feet when Rose pulls him up to stand and walks him off stage.

Bella takes a deep breath, "I'll be right back," she announces and then excuses herself to attend the restroom and prepare for her dance with Tanya. She doesn't look at him, or else she might not be able to walk away.

Edward watches as she leaves the table, he's confused. Did he do something wrong? Should he go after her?

Alice kicks the table leg to get his attention. He jumps and whips his head around to scowl at her.

"It's nothing. She'll be back. I got this under control." Alice winks at him.

He turns back to face the stage. "That's what I'm afraid of," he mumbles before he takes another swig of his beer

* * *

><p>She locates Tanya in the back and they quickly go over their dance plan keeping it simple.<p>

Bella can't help but feel coy and sneaky. Now she knows why Alice is doing this and it's not for Alice and Jasper. It's for her and Edward.

Alice gave it away when she said, 'Make it where he can't deny you any longer. Dance for him. Only him. Trust me.'

Bella does, she trust Alice. She also trust Tanya to help her carry out her plan to seduce him.

Tanya and Bella giggle as they wait in the shadows. Tanya's life partner, Jane rushes back stage to give her a kiss and a smack on the ass. "You two are going to look so hot out there together. I can't wait!" Jane kisses Tanya again before she turns to leave them to it.

He finds himself fidgeting again. Where is she? Alice won't let him leave the table but he's feeling the need to find her.

Bella and Tanya find their spot on stage and the song soon changes to theirs. Bella hopes he knows this song and this dance is for him, only him.

_~o~_

_I know you want me_

_I made it obvious that I want you too_

_So put it on me_

_Let's remove the space between me and you_

_Now rock your body_

_Damn I like the way that you move_

_So give it to me_

_'Cause I already know_

_What you wanna do_

_~o~_

Edward's heard this song before. His heart begins to thunder. His palms begin to sweat. It can't be.

The curtain lifts and he sees her.

It is.

Mother fucker, she's dancing with Tanya to this song. Just those two. Together.

_~o~_

_Nobody's ever made me feel the way that you do_

_You know my motivation_

_Give in my reputation_

_Please excuse I don't mean to be rude_

_But tonight I'm fucking you_

_Oh you know_

_~o~_

Bella and Tanya slink toward the other on stage, but don't touch. Not yet.

He wants to glare at Alice but knows better than to take his eyes off the stage. He'd rather die first.

_~o~_

_That tonight I'm fucking you_

_Oh you know_

_~o~_

Within seconds of watching her he's rock hard again, his cock painfully thick in his pants.

Her and Tanya twist and turn their bodies around the other, they rock, they roll. Their hands seek and find.

_~o~_

_You're so damn pretty_

_If I had a type than baby it would be you_

_I know you're ready_

_~o~_

She looks at him. Her eyes say it all. She does want him. He can tell.

_~o~_

_That tonight I'm fucking you_

_Oh you know_

_That tonight I'm fucking you_

_~o~_

Is he ready? Tonight?

_~o~_

_Tonight I'm gonna do_

_Everything that I want with you_

_Everything that you need_

_Everything that you want_

_I wanna hunt it_

_I wanna start with you_

_~o~_

She touches Tanya, her fingers just barely coming in contact with Tanya's skin, but when she does, she thinks of him. Her goal is to touch him again. Only this time more …and bare.

_~o~_

_You're stuck with me_

_And I'm stuck with you_

_Let's find something to do_

_Please excuse me_

_I don't mean to be rude_

_That tonight I'm fucking you _

_~o~ _

Bella thinks Tanya is a very attractive woman, if Bella were into that kinda thing like Tanya is. Tanya thinks the same of Bella, if she already weren't committed to Jane of course and if Bella was a lesbian also.

He waits impatiently for her to finish her dance and exit the stage. Even though he'd like nothing more than to watch her dance all night, this song has him on edge. It's too much.

She's ready. After she gets off this stage, she's going straight to him. It's now or never.

She closes her eyes as Tanya's warm flesh slides up and down her own. Their hands are innocently touching, but she needs more, and not from Tanya.

The song winds down. He debates going to meet her toward the back stage entrance.

Bella and Tanya push the limit, the line of too much without crossing it. This means nothing more than a dance of seduction and lust, it's just a dance.

Alice accosts Bella as soon as she walks backstage. She pulls Bella to join her in front of the stage with all the other dancers. Bella follows Alice and joins the crowd dancing, but her mind is elsewhere. She's looking for him.

He sees Alice grab her. He watches as she begins to reluctantly dance again with her friends. He admires her stamina and her energy. That could come in handy for other things.

The drawback is, as that he distances himself, he begins to worry and over think. He let's his doubts and insecurities sway his decision. He shouldn't do this. He can't get involved with anyone. He can't. He shouldn't.

He takes one last glance at the smile of her face as she dances with everyone and he retreats. He flees, undecided if he really wants her to follow him or not.

She sees him leave through the door by the bar. Where is he going? Should she follow him or wait on him to return? Does he know that this isn't important to her? Not really. Not without him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Dance is your pulse, your heartbeat, your breathing.<strong>_

_**It's the rhythm of your life.**_

_**It's the expression in time and movement,**_

_**in happiness, joy, sadness and envy."**_

_**- Jaques D'ambroise**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Knockin' Boots**

**Chapter 12**

She dances on through the song with Alice and her friends, but her mind is elsewhere. Her eyes keep a watch out for him. She doesn't see him return.

It sucks the fun right out of her.

She gradually backs away from the crowd, heading toward the door he exited.

She glances around the back room, he's not there.

She slowly takes the stairs toward the practice space. She says his name aloud.

He doesn't answer.

She continues up the steps, to his place. Her hand gripping the rail, tight and unsure.

She stops when his door comes into view. His door is cracked open and even through the thumping from downstairs she can hear music inside his loft. Soft, lighter music.

Her heart feels as though it's about to escape her chest. She wipes off her damp palms on the back pockets of her skirt. She wavers. What if he doesn't want her here?

She steps forward, pushing on his door. She looks around the open space. She still doesn't see him. She turns toward the bathroom, the only room left for him to hide. She knocks on the door and says his name.

Nothing.

She turns back around and sees his cowboy boots now lying in his floor. So he's at least been here.

She unhurriedly walks around his apartment. She sees no other evidence of him, so with a splintered heart, she turns to leave.

She reaches the door, still open from her entrance.

"Bella?" He asks.

She spins to face him, surprised and startled. She clutches her chest, "You scared me. I didn't think you was here."

He sits down a bottle of wine on his kitchen counter. "I went up on the roof for a minute."

He rests his backside on the counter and his feet cross. She looks down, admiring his bare feet, thankful they appear clean and neat. She looks back up his body, just now realizing his shirt is unbuttoned and has fallen open. His chiseled abs and hard chest on full display. She blinks and forces herself to stop ogling him, suddenly feeling like she's intruding.

"I'm sorry. I should go." She spins to leave, but he calls out her name again.

"Please don't go." He says after she turns back to look at him. "Stay."

She stand there, uneasy on her feet, trying to read the emotions on his face that's almost hid by his cowboy hat. She crosses her arms and waits.

She did it, she came to him. He knows the ball is in his court. She came looking for him, and she found him.

So now what? He watches as she stands there wobbling in his apartment, still beautiful, still gorgeous.

He opens his mouth to say something, to explain, but the words don't come.

But the pull is there, the magnetism drawing her to him and him to her, it fills the room around them.

He gives.

"Come here," he says with a low, rough voice.

She thinks she should say something, ask him a question, demand an answer, but she doesn't, she just goes.

She stops and stands in front of him, waiting, wanting.

He holds back, he feels so much, he needs to take it easy. Falling fast can hurt.

He reaches out to her, his hands gentle on her hips.

She looks up at him, she's trying to calm her breathing. He's touching her. His eyes taking her in, his hands holding onto her like she's so fragile.

"Dance with me." He pulls her closer, his body flush to hers.

She nods and then melts into him.

Her hands slide around his neck.

His arms circle her back and he lifts her feet off the floor. He holds her tight and strong.

They sway and swirl to the music from his speakers. It's barely audible, but it's enough, and right now, the music is irrelevant.

Her hand moves up in to his hair causing his hat to fall to the floor.

They don't stop dancing.

His head bends down and his lips find the junction of her neck and her shoulder, right inside her open collar. He nips and kisses so gently.

They still don't stop dancing.

Her fingernails scrape through his hair, holding his lips to her skin.

He sits her back on the floor. His hands come up to cup her cheeks. "Do you want me to stop?" His thumbs sweeping across her cheeks as he asks. He's stopped thinking, only acting on feelings now.

It's been a long time coming.

She quickly shakes her head, she doesn't want him to ever stop touching her, holding her. She's willing to beg if she has to.

His mouth breaks out in a crooked grin right before he covers her mouth with his own. His lips are satin against hers. His tongue sneaks out to taste her bottom lip, she greedily sucks his into her mouth, earning a moan from him.

She's consumed by him, he's drowning in her. His hands frame her face and demand she stay right where she is, as if there was anywhere else she'd rather be.

Her hands dive into his open shirt, she maps the outline of his abs, loving the goosebumps she feels cover his skin from her touch.

She feels all over the bare skin of his sides, his back, the soft skin of his waist. She can't get enough.

Their kiss escalates from smooth and creamy to frantic and hungry. His hands find her waist again and hoist her up onto the counter top.

Her legs spread open and she tugs on his open shirt to pull him between them.

He leaves a hot wet trail down her neck causing her to shiver.

"If you don't want me to go any further, say it now." His voice is husky and his breathing is heavy.

"Oh please don't stop," she says with a breathy moan.

Her hands slide down and find his belt buckle, gripping and tugging to unbuckle it.

His forehead falls against hers, "We don't have to do this Bella. We can stop. Go slow."

"No, I want to." She shakes her head.

She sighs when she finally feels his hands on her thighs creeping up underneath her skirt, pushing it up as he goes. She knows this is too fast for them and going slow would be the smart decision, but sometimes smart is boring and dull.

Plus, she wants him and she doubts she would ever regret this.

His pants fall open once the buckle is open and she pushes the zipper down.

He tugs on her panties, she lifts her ass and he quickly pulls them off.

He slides her to the edge of the counter while her hands bury into the front of his jeans to grip his hard cock.

She pumps him with one hand and tries to push down his jeans with the other. They only go halfway down his ass, but it's enough.

He hands her the condom that he'd fished out of his wallet minutes earlier. She slides it on and guides him toward her.

Her legs wrap around the back of this thighs, pulling him even closer.

He squeezes her thighs, "Are you sure? I don't want to mess this up with you Bella. This is more than just a fuck for me. I want to try for more with you."

She feels tears of joy sting the back of her throat. "I am so sure, Edward. I want to try with you too." She leans forward and sucks his bottom lip in her mouth, showing him how much she really does want it.

He kisses her back and the fever between them builds again.

"But right now, I wouldn't mind you fucking me Edward." Her hands knead his naked ass.

"Fuck... yes, my pleasure." He grips his cock and slowly pushes into her slickness. Her heat encasing him, her walls squeezing him. "Shit..." He groans as he tries to set his pace.

"Faster," she says in a loud whisper. Her hands scratching at his back, her legs encouraging him to go deeper.

His hands start to tighten on her thighs, she may have bruises tomorrow. He trails one hand down her leg, stopping to trace her scar. He moves down her calf to her heel to grab her onto the back of her boot, holstering her leg up a little higher.

The shift causes him to hit directly on her clit and within a few more stokes, she's stiffening and screaming his name.

Her orgasm pushes him over the edge and he loses it, his head falling to rest on her shoulder to balance himself as he pumps sporadically a few more times. He quickly reaches out to grasp the counter, afraid his legs might give out on him.

* * *

><p>They crawl into his bed together with their clothes still half on like they were minutes ago. Both too tired at the moment to strip.<p>

He pulls the covers up over her and grabs her hand to hold. He brings it to his lips, covering her skin with kisses.

"I'm sorry," he confess into the darkness. "I'm sorry I avoided you, pushed you away. I'm sorry I tried to deny us of this."

She huffs and rolls over to face him. "Edward, I forgive you, just don't do it again. I mean, we have to that again, really, really soon. Just don't shut me out, because I'm pretty sure I belong here. You know?"

He nods but she can't see him in the dark, "Yeah, I do know. I think you belong here too, with me."

"I do know a way you can make it up to me, well... another way." she giggles.

He groans and moves closer to her, his other hand reaching out to find something to hold on to. His hand curls around her leg and she scoots and throws it over his hip. "What is that?" he questions.

She wishes she could see the look on his face when she asks him, "Dance with me again?"

**The End**

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Let us read and let us dance -two amusements that will never do any harm to the world."<strong>_

_**- Voltaire**_

* * *

><p><strong>I'm thinking outtakes? We have Nationals &amp; stuff &amp; I have ideas for more dances... What do YOU think?<strong>

**Ugh, I think I need practice writing smex. **

**Sunsetwing, thank you for the prompt! I hope this meets your expectations. It was fun. All the ladies that were somehow involved with this, THANK YOU SO MUCH, you know who you are. Also visit the FAGE 3Some C2, and read all the other fics. My beegurl has one... and it may or may not be angsty! **

**Please review, that's the only way I know you were here. **

***puffy heart love* **

**Mrs. R**


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